


Who is Trixie?

by Nobodys_Handmaid



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Lady and the Tramp (1955)
Genre: Angst, Lady and The Tramp AU, M/M, They're all dogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-12 01:42:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5649106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nobodys_Handmaid/pseuds/Nobodys_Handmaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know the scene where Lady rips the Tramp a new one? I re-wrote it as Spamano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who is Trixie?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waitineedaname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waitineedaname/gifts).



> Dog breeds:  
> Romano=Lupo Italiano  
> France=Papillon  
> Russia=Caucasian Shepherd  
> Spain=the eponymous tramp (mongrel)

“...unfortunate experience. We do not want to hurt his feelings.” 

 

The voice of France, the purebred, silky-haired Papillon from across the street, reached Romano’s ears, and he curled up more tightly at the back of his little house.

 

“Da, da, da…”

 

And Russia - a large pedigree Caucasian Shepherd - was with him too. From the sounds of it, both of them were coming closer.

 

“Romano!” France called from the doorway, voice artificially cheerful.

 

“My little Sunflower~” Russia echoed him.

 

Compared to that mutt,  _ everything _ was little, Romano thought to himself. He lifted his head from his paws. “I don’t want to see anybody…”  _ Just fuck off and leave me alone, like everyone else _ , he thought. The young dog dropped his nose back down and closed his eyes. Even his family had abandoned him; just dumped him out here and chained him up like a common pitbull.

 

“Oh non, non, non, mon cheri! Don’t feel like that!” Again, that horribly fake perkiness lifted his voice.

 

The Shepherd began to say something as well, only for the tiny French dog to cut him off. The entirety of the little wooden building shook as Russia’s head hit the top of the doorway.

 

“Please, mon cher, j’aimerais te proposer une idée… To help you.”

 

“Help me?” He echoed, voice slightly hoarse. The young Lupo Italiano uncurled and looked over at the earnest face of his visitors. “What do you mean?” Wariness coloured his tone.

 

The two of them began to fumble with their words, saying very many of them, but none that had much meaning when strung together.

 

“...in the prime of our lives…”

 

“...comfortable homes…”

 

“...know you’ll be welcome and appreciated, my…”

 

“...directly to the point,” France said at last - Romano had, by now, almost completely tuned out as he waited for the two idiots to get it all out of their systems.

 

“We have been discussing it, and we want to know if…” Russia was the one stalling now.

 

Romano cut him off with some pacifying nonsense designed to get them to  _ go away _ and leave him alone again.

 

“Oh,  _ Romaaaaaa~ _ ”

 

Said dog’s ears dropped and he suppressed a growl as his head swivelled over to look at that loose plank in the fence.

 

“ _ Roma! _ Oh, Ro- Ah! Uh - hola, guys!”

 

First France, and then Russia turned his back on the mongrel pushing through the panel. Their noses were lifted haughtily in the air, and Romano trotted over to join them. The three dogs sat in a row straight enough to impress even the pickiest judge, with identical positions.

 

“Anything new with the Kennel Club Trio?” He laughed at his own joke as he trotted forwards. Clearly Spain’s inability to read the atmosphere had not gone away overnight. The light chuckles only faltered when he realised that he was standing in a deadly silent garden, and nobody else was laughing. “Hey, Roma, here’s something nice I got for you!” He tried, dropping the bone from his mouth to the ground behind Romano’s rump, tail wagging hopefully.

 

The Lupo Italiano made an unimpressed sound through his nose and trotted to the other side, as far as the chain on his collar would let him. The elegant nose never dropped, and the tawny eyes never opened. Once the chain jerked on his neck, Romano dropped his hindquarters to the ground and resumed his previous position.

 

Spain looked at him in confusion, then over at France and Russia. He sat slowly. “Huh… Looks like  _ I’m _ the one in the dog house.” He laughed again, apparently immune to the aura being given off by Russia.

 

“Sunflower~,” Russia spoke up, disturbingly cheerful in his tone. “If this  _ mongrel _ is annoying you-”

 

“We will be only  _ too happy _ to throw him out.” France finished, decidedly less amiable.

 

“There’s no need to waste your time with that bastard.” Romano replied icily.

 

“Very well, my little sunflower.” Russia left with his head held high and did not deign to give the stray so much as a single glance.

 

“Èspece de bâtard!” France growled, the tiny Papillon getting right up into Spain’s face. The insult spat out, he turned his back on him and scratched dirt up at his head - in exactly the same way he covered his ‘business’ while in the park.

 

The two older dogs left with their noses held high in the air.

 

“Aww, come on, Roma!” Spain wheedled, slinking underneath the chain to Romano’s other side. “It wasn’t my fault!” He protested.

 

Romano turned his head and trotted away, again going as far as his chain would allow and sitting firmly down. 

 

“I - I thought you were right behind me, honest!” He pursued him earnestly. The stray crouched down beside the Lupo Italiano and looked up hopefully.

 

Romano twisted his head away and lifted his nose as high as it would go.

 

“And when I heard they’d taken you to the pound-!”

 

“Don’t you even  _ mention  _ that place!” He snarled, slinking back to the dog house. Romano was channeling everything he had into his anger and hurt, hoping that doing so would keep him from breaking down and looking weak in front of Spain. He looked back briefly, just long enough for the stray to see the betrayal in his eyes, before turning his head away again. He had been so humiliated. So scared. 

 

“Oh, nooooo, Roma!” He followed after the chained dog, tail wagging winningfully. “Who could ever harm a cute little trick like you~?” He crouched down in the doorway, looking in at his little Roma with a goofy smile on his face.

 

“...Trick.”

 

_ Oh shit. _

 

“That reminds me,” Romano began ominously, all softness going from his body and a growl entering his voice. 

 

Spain slowly sat up, tail stilling and worry clouding his face.

 

“ _ Who is Trixie?!” _ Romano pushed his head out, looking every bit like the wolf he was descended from.

 

Spain’s face fell faster than a brick. “Trixie?”

 

“ _ And Lulu, and Pickles, and Duke Griddlesnitch of Cunningham?! Or whatever the fuck his name is!” _

 

He mumbled something, and then tried to brush it off. Thunder rumbled in the sky overhead. “O-ohh! Yes! W-Well, I can explain-!”

 

Romano cut him off ruthlessly. “Well as far as I’m concerned, you don’t need to fucking bother with your ‘ _ old heel’ _ !

 

Spain was backing away; Romano was having none of that, and kept pushing forwards so they were almost always nose to nose.

 

“M-My  _ heel _ ?” He slipped and one back leg got trapped in Romano’s food bowl. Without the little tidbits the family pet was accustomed to, it was now licked meticulously clean.

 

“I don’t need your useless ass to  _ shelter  _ or  _ protect  _ me!”

 

“W-Well,  _ yes _ , b-b-but -”

 

“If you got careless, then don’t you fucking dare blame me! And I don’t care if the Catchers  _ do  _ pick you up, you damn worthless bastard!”

 

Spain had backed up, the bowl on his foot thudding with each step, and was now pressed against the nearest wall of the house. Romano’s nose and bared teeth were dangerously close to his face, but the Pedigree was at the very end of his chain.

 

“Good _ bye _ !” He whirled about on his hindquarters and trotted back to his house. “And take this with you!” In a motion very similar to the one France had used earlier, he kicked the bone behind him over to Spain. It landed with a clatter in the bowl that had slipped off the stray’s foot, and he stared morosely at it.

 

The thunder got closer, and rain was beginning to hurtle down to the ground.

 

Romano’s tail whisked through the doorway and he disappeared into the darkness inside the small doghouse. Before long, broken whimpers and small cries that the family dog hadn’t made since the first night away from his mother came out from inside the wooden walls. And this time, he didn’t even have his humans to comfort him. Romano was completely alone.

 

Spain slunk away, his stub of a tail tucked between his legs and heart aching at the sound of  _ his Roma  _ in such pain.

 

Those whimpers and cries followed him as he squeezed through the gap in the fence.

 

When Romano heard the clack of the loose panel, his head poked out and looked around. Spain… Spain hadn’t hung around to comfort him... He hadn’t come into the house and curled up around him… No little kisses on his muzzle or reassuring nudges of the head…

  
Somehow, this felt worse.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a gift for waitineedaname on tumblr who mentioned wanting an AU of this a while ago. It turned out angstier than I was expecting, but I had forgotten just how dark this film is. I might write more of this AU in the future, if I have sufficient motivation


End file.
